


Fragile

by Trash



Category: Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin wishes someone had told him that this decision was fucked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile

Robin wants to blame the drugs, but the fact that Trent may have just always hated him doesn’t seem too unbelievable either. Mostly, though, it’s the drugs Robin wishes had never come into their lives. Most days he’s glad he met Trent, even if the scars on his arms will never fade.

And that’s another story. Trent doing lines, pushing white powder with a razor blade and Robin having the audacity to tell him to pack that shit the fuck in. And then thirteen stitches and him saying to the others that there was nothing to worry about. Not a thing.

Yeah, for real, that’s a different story.

Right now, though. Here and now, Robin is in some ratty diner waiting for Axl to get off the can so he can go and he’s thinking, fuck, this is all so predictable. And he knows tonight on stage Axl will be his same dickhead self and act as if he is God’s gift to, well, everyone. 

Times like these he misses coked out Trent. But knows that the feeling isn’t mutual. Probably he is trying to goad Robin with his little online bitching session, but there’s little point in commenting. And whenever people ask him about it Robin just shrugs.

Better than the alternative.

Better than saying he’s sorry.

Or that he misses them. Trent, really. Just Trent.

Everything was always about Trent. Even when he was sober. Especially when he was sober. 

So Robin doesn’t know why he bothers pretending.

He rubs his scars absently and stares out of the diner window and wishes things weren’t so grey. Wishes someone had pointed out to him that he’d regret touring with Guns more than anything in his entire life. Even more than he regrets fucking Trent.

But, for real, that’s a different story.


End file.
